Café de Nuit

Alain says in soothing tone:" Now my friend I think you remember my voice from the gallows, I'm the reasonable one with silver , perhaps if you give us this information I can arrange long term money for information between you and me . And you don't have to ever meet that nasty dwarf ever again." He press a 5 sp into into his hand at the end of his speech. (Diplomacy 21 result check)

Sorry for the delay, had a 16 hour working day.

Cirdan will put the prisoner's naked feet into the buckets full of water.

With a grim, rasping voice, he shouts to the man, making the steel rings of his armor cling.

"LISTEN, YOU SCUM! THIS ACID WILL STRIP AWAY YOUR FLESH TO YOUR BONES IF YOU DON'T TELL US WHAT WE WANT TO HEAR! TRY NOT TO FOOL US; WE HAVE A MAGICIAN HERE, HE WOULD KNOW!"

Grinning broadly to Ben, Cirdan approaches the bound man's face and, now, whispering, says: "Believe me... I am a man of my word."

The man speaks, his voice thick with terror-


''PLEASE take my feet out of the acid! I'll tell you eveything!''

Dorgio raises an eyebrow at Norzak's claim. "Not used to your methods, am I?” He pauses for a moment, then produces a weathered looking cheroot, one he'd been saving for some time. He takes two loose splinters from the ground, and in an uncanny second of friction, the splinters flare and the cheroot is lit. He takes a long, desperate puff, and then exhales the cherry scented smoke into the air.

"I once ran with a group in Old Gundarak. We called ourselves corpse-hunters, and we spent our days putting down the undying. But the Barovians, they were worse than the ghouls. Everything about who we were, they wanted to destroy. If you were caught with any weapon bigger than a dagger, you wouldn't likely be seen again. And you never knew who to trust. Strahd's boyars have treasuries deep as the Rift. A little gold can make a man betray anything. Traitors, we believed, lurked all around.

"We caught one once. His name was Myklos. I'd known him for years, a decent man. Slow and poor, but decent. One day he started wearing better clothing. Jewelry, too. A few days later, an old woman disappeared in the mountains. It seemed obvious.

"We took him captive, this traitor. Lazlo, our hatcheteer, he sliced Myklos nearly unto death. He told him to tell us who'd given him the money, but he refused, even as he lay dying. He told us, he'd simply found the money, that we had no right to claim it. But we knew better. Lazlo, he told me to heal him, so we could start it again. And I did, and I was glad to do it. And the Morninglord, he was glad to answer. When the axe cut Myklos again, he finally told us where to go. We sent him on his way, then drank to the coming hunt.

"We found the cave the next day. We saw the corpses or Borcans and wolfmen, and remnants of loot from who knows what sort of deal they'd been planning. Myklos, he'd ran across the scene, and did what any of us would have. He'd been no criminal, no traitor.

"But what we had done to him, it drove him mad. He took to the mountains, striking at everyone, Gundarakite and Barovian. We tracked him down, but there was nothing we could do.

"I put my spear through his windpipe.

"I know what it is to hate, Norzak. I know what it is to want men to suffer. But if we keep doing this, we will be forfeit."

He stops after this, realizing how much the drink here must be affecting him to have gone on talking for that long. He then looks back, towards the red-haired man, and then to Norzak again. “I don’t guess you recognize that song, do you?”

Grimacing with distaste, Benn pulls the man's chair backwards, moving him so his feet come out of the buckets.

"Alright. Talk."

Adam wrote:Grimacing with distaste, Benn pulls the man's chair backwards, moving him so his feet come out of the buckets.

"Alright. Talk."

The man takes a minute or two to slow his breathing and calm down a bit. He still looks and sounds shaken.

''I...I'm just a tavern-keeper. Lots of rough types come into my place. A smart man keeps his ears open. When I learned that Malreux's old crew were coming after M. Sancerre's new practicals, I thought I saw a way to help you fellows and get some coin on the side. I need money to settle my debts. ''

He sucks in a deep, shuddering breath before continuing:

''I know where Van Diecks stays. It's a brothel. He runs the place now that Malreux is dead. I despise Van Diecks. He's a brute. He beats his girls. I guess...I guess that sort of violence doesn't bother men like you, but it appalls me.''

ewancummins wrote:

Adam wrote:Grimacing with distaste, Benn pulls the man's chair backwards, moving him so his feet come out of the buckets.

"Alright. Talk."

The man takes a minute or two to slow his breathing and calm down a bit. He still looks and sounds shaken.

''I...I'm just a tavern-keeper. Lots of rough types come into my place. A smart man keeps his ears open. When I learned that Malreux's old crew were coming after M. Sancerre's new practicals, I thought I saw a way to help you fellows and get some coin on the side. I need money to settle my debts. ''

He sucks in a deep, shuddering breath before continuing:

''I know where Van Diecks stays. It's a brothel. He runs the place now that Malreux is dead. I despise Van Diecks. He's a brute. He beats his girls. I guess...I guess that sort of violence doesn't bother men like you, but it appalls me.''

Bennedict turns an accusatory glare towards Cirdan, before turning back to the bound man. "These are trying times, tavern keeper. These men are more dangerous than you know. They deal in the black arts. They cavort with things that are dead, and they are not afraid to perpetrate the vilest of blasphemes in the pursuit of their objectives. What steps we have taken were for our own defense, and that of our employer. And, in truth, we may have protected you as well." Bennedict straightens up, grimacing as a cramp in his back tightens. "Those bruises look painful. Here, let me see what I can do about them." With that, he reaches back into his mind, reciting the words to an Ezran prayer of healing, and going to great lengths to emphasize the name of the patron saint as he does so. He places his hands upon the man, channeling healing magic into him to fix the superficial damage caused by Cirdan's fist.

"There now. That's better. Now, tell us more about this brothel."

The man's bruises fade and his scalp ceases to bleed where it had been lacerated by the rough edges of Cirdan's iron fist. He calms down further, and continues to speak:

''The brothel is called the Lorelei. It's in the River Quarter, near the fish market. Big place, with a river-woman painted on the sign out front. Van Diecks stays there most nights, from what I hear. He was Malreux's chief pimp, before Malreux was sliced up. He always keeps his bodyguards near, in case there's trouble. I don't know anything else, I swear! I've never heard of them being involved in black magic! ''

Bennedict grabs the top of the chair, tipping the man back up to a seated position. "Not to worry freund. If you had known they would likely have had to kill you." He reaches up, undoing the man's blindfold. "Do you have a family, herr? We are going to deal with this Van Deicks fellow, but in the meantime they could be in danger. It may be a good idea to take a vacation outside the city for the time being until we can resolve the problem." He bends over, scooping 20g from a coin purse and handing it to the man. "Here, take this and our apologies for your rough treatment. If you like, I can send Herr Cirdan with you to protect you on the way home. He will gladly give his word as a Knight to protect you and yours from these villains." He turns, flashing another look laced with meaning at the elf.

''The man blinks and looks about the room, startled. After a moment, he speaks,

''Yes! I'll just take my family and go down the river. My wife, she has relatives in Saint Ronges. Can I go now?''

Norzak listens to Dorgio talk. The dwarven ale was having it's usual effect on a human. He was happy about that. He took a rather long swig of his pint, and lay it on the table.

"I know what it is to hate, Norzak. I know what it is to want men to suffer. But if we keep doing this, we will be forfeit."

"I dun hate noone. I's just that way. I's used ta doin' things me way fer o'er a century 'n' a half now. There's a way ta go about things, ta accomplish 'em. Them's peoples I've harmed or killeded deserved it, ye canna deny. That recent fellow we met, I'd not of harmed 'im, he's innocent." He sips his ale before going on and signals the young lady to bring more ale.

"One thing ye gots to know bout me. When it comes to children and wimmins, theys more importan' than anything. I may be brash and rude, not counting headstrong. But in case ye din' notice, lil Anja is in a better place cuz a me. I does one motto, 'n tha elf might eat his hand afore he thinks tha same. Mebbe e'en grow a beard! But me it's shoot first, ask questions after. But I's do it to those who earned it." He downs his tankard and slams it on the table.

"Let yer in on a lil secret. I's was married once. Had me a child too. That all changed now 'n' their dead 'n' I'm here. So call me whatever ye wann' but never ever question me methods when it's a cuz a wimmin or children. That there Denys I's unnerstandin how 'e' felt, n deep. If me child was missin' I'd turn every rock up till I's a find her. Lucky fer 'im we was around. 'N' now 'is lil missy gonna marry tha elf. I don' get that, but then again I'm a middle aged dwarf in a 'uman land!" He laughs at this comment and sits back. He turns an ear to the conversations in the pub.

He turns to Dorgio and says "I dun know tha song, but I think I 'eard it recently and somewhere I been a few times. Me memory is kinna off right now."

The red haired young man smiles with surprise as the barmaid returns with more ale. She points out Norzak and Dorgio as the source of the drink. The man takes his glass and moves to their table.

"Thank you fine sirs for the ales, though I must admit that between these and the spirit Stoneguts there bought me I'm a bit buzzed. My apologies," He extends his hand, which seems a bit too clean, "My name is Jonathan Maytr. Im a hunter of sorts from Mordentshire. Though I must say the only work I've found here is hunting rats down below. Not that exciting, but it put coins in my pockets. Lovely though; the city. Thank the mists, the women here are much fairer than those back home on the moor."

Jonathan beckons the barmaid who after several minutes comes over to the table. Instead of ale, this time the young man orders an avaian meal.

"A hunter? Ye be huntin the rats in the sewers? I bin thinkin bout mebbe some rat stew. Ye think it migh thave merit?" Norzak winks. "Ye canna be half bad if'n ye in this pub here, laddie" This he says in dwarf to see if he judged right by the young red haired lad.

"Rat stew? I imagine with the right broth they might. Though I've not had the pleasure." Johnathan says with a smile. He dosen't appear to understand Norzaks second statement though he acts like he does. "Yup, back in Mordentshire I was a hunter with the doct--my father. My father. He helped alot of old women in town who got scared of the dark. My father and I would look into things for them. Superstitious lot most of them. But every now and then a wolf or rabid fox would rear its head allowing for a good hunt."

The barmaid brings over Jonathan's food. Steam rises off the small bird, curling towards the candle on the table. The aroma is sweet, almost sickly. Jonathan tears into the bird as if it was his first meal of the day.

Norzak belches rather profusely. "I'll try this lads concoction too, missy. Dorgio as well. ye ain' got no choice, bub. I's payin 'n' thus yer eatin' it!" He grabs his new tankard and swigs it long and hard, before putting it on the table and looking around.

"Jonathan is it? I's Norzak 'n' this is me pal Dorgio. We've an office, of sorts, nearby. Mebbe tamorrow ye kinna come 'n' see us? What's yer talents?"